


making things weird

by bugselfs



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M, Not Beta Read, Tumblr Prompt, and the OTV house is still their like. friend group idk, they are streamers here still its just... theyre roomies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27544138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugselfs/pseuds/bugselfs
Summary: They’re roommates. It’s fine, but Sykkuno keeps making things weird.-“Corpse. Please get out of that pillow fort. We’re supposed to have dinner with our friends!”“Counter-offer: you join me, we rule this pillow kingdom together, watchTwitches,and eat popcorn for dinner.”
Relationships: Corpse Husband/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 1292
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	making things weird

**Author's Note:**

> corpse husband look away .... sykkuno u can stay (/j)
> 
> (the assumptions i make based on corpse's appearance are basically... i made him look like me bc i am mexican/white. also this is NAWT beta read at ALL)

"Corpse. _Please_ get out of that pillow fort. We’re supposed to have dinner with our friends!”

Corpse, from underneath his fuzzy blanket, pops his head out and reveals a mountain of unruly curls. He grins. “Counter-offer: you join me, we rule this pillow kingdom together, watch _Twitches_ , and eat popcorn for dinner.”

Sykkuno narrows his eyes at the younger man smiling innocently at him from the floor. “You always do this,” he hisses. “It was your idea to hang out with everybody tonight! Rae made me swear on my _life_ that you would show up, because you always bail. _Please._ ”

“Sykkuno,” Corpse groans and throws himself back under his fort. “Don’t be a bitch. _I don’t want to._ ”

There are two types of Corpse-avoiding-social-interaction behaviors. Usually, Corpse is just avoiding it because he’s an introvert and he wants to stay in the safety of their apartment, but when Sykkuno drags him out, he has a blast and thanks his friend for the push. Then, there’s the _other_ Corpse behavior: the bad one. Sometimes, Corpse really can’t go out. He stares at the wall and tries to joke about it to make Sykkuno feel like there’s nothing wrong and then starts to cry when Sykkuno approaches him about it, or he’s straight up mean and tries to keep Sykkuno at an arm’s length.

Sykkuno takes this all into account before he makes a decision. 

He sits down tailor-style right next to where Corpse’s head is on the floor, curls splayed out like a halo around him. A blanket obscures most of his view of Corpse, so Sykkuno pulls one of his hands into his lap and uses the other to push it out of the way, leaning down and kneeing Corpse’s temple a little to get his attention. “I’m sorry for getting upset,” Sykkuno says, softer than before. Corpse, whose eyes had fluttered open a little, scrunches them shut and turns his head so he doesn’t have to look at Sykkuno. He does that sometimes. “Do you want me to invite them over instead? Or just tell them it’s a bad night?”

Corpse looks at him again. His eyes are impossibly warm, and Sykkuno pretends not to see how smudged his eyeliner is. “It’s bad,” he whispers. 

Sykkuno pats his head and pulls out his phone wordlessly. In his peripheral vision, he can see Corpse smiling at him in that stupid way that always makes Sykkuno feel crazy, so he just ignores it. Like he always does. He pulls up his texts with Rae and types out, _Bad day again. We’re really sorry :(_

Rae responds immediately. _All good. Go take care of your BF._

_Not my BF,_ Sykkuno replies, and then tosses his phone onto the couch. “Alright,” he says. “You pull up the movie. I’m gonna change and get the food.”

“I can make the popcorn,” Corpse offers, lighting up at Sykkuno’s sudden investment in their evening plans.

“No,” Sykkuno orders. “I expect you to be wrapped like a burrito when I get back.”

Corpse smiles at him. _That way._ Sykkuno has to force himself to look away.

  
  


Sykkuno throws the popcorn in the microwave on his way to his room and sets it for a little bit over the recommended time, because Corpse is a freak who likes it burnt. He strips away his jeans and throws on a pair of his favorite fuzzy pajamas - because Corpse has seen him at his worst, so who cares what pants he wears - before replacing his t-shirt with the warmest hoodie he could find. His necklace stays on.

The microwave beeps at him so he rushes to take it out, the scorched smell and smoke filling their kitchen a little more than he would normally like. He scuttles over to Corpse’s fort and lifts the blanket to hand the popcorn over, but stops in his tracks at the sight in front of him.

Corpse is in a blanket burrito, as expected, but Sykkuno wasn’t ready for him to look so _cute_. His curls are messy and tangled, his eyeliner smudged further down his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy, but he’s perfect. He’s absolutely perfect.

And he’s looking at Sykkuno expectantly and Sykkuno is just staring. _Great_. “Popcorn,” Sykkuno spits out. “I’m - I’m gonna make us hot chocolate.”

Corpse nods. “Okay,” he replies, voice low and sweet as ever. He takes the bag from Sykkuno’s hand and Sykkuno immediately runs away.

In a rush, he slams the pot onto the stovetop and slams the fridge door shut after grabbing the milk and the mugs he chose clatter on the counter as he slams them down. “Sykkuno?” Corpse calls, equal parts questioning and scolding.

Sykkuno clears his throat. “Yes?” he says innocently, taking a breath and flicking the stove on.

“Are you mad at the kitchen?”

“No,” Sykkuno insists. “I’m - I’m not mad at the kitchen. I’m not mad at anything. Why would I be mad at the kitchen?”

Sykkuno can hear movement from the pillow fort, but he ignores it in favor of pouring milk into the pot. _Until_ he sees Corpse’s head pop out, on the opposite side from earlier, and he can’t help but relax at the sight of his roommate’s - his friend’s, his _best_ friend’s - smile. “If it were anyone else, they would sound so suspicious. But you just talk like that.”

Sykkuno blushes, turning the heat a little lower so the milk doesn’t curdle over. “I’m making you hot chocolate right now,” he says. “You should be nice to me.”

“I am nice to you,” Corpse replies earnestly. “You’re my best friend. I’m always nice to you.” 

Sykkuno wants to kick a wall. He can’t muster up the courage to reply - _you’re my best friend too, also I think you’re really cute and I may or may not be falling in love with you, did you want me to write up the Craigslist post for your new roommate or do you have it covered?_ \- so he just keeps his eye trained on the bubble in the corner of the pot threatening to pop.

“Sorry if that was weird,” Corpse says suddenly, and nothing else.

Sykkuno turns to see him begin to retreat to his fort and he looks back at the pot to blurt out, “It wasn’t weird. Sorry. Um, you’re my best friend too. You - you know that.” Corpse doesn’t reply, and that seems like a sign to Sykkuno that he _doesn’t_ know it. “Your voice is cool. You always make me laugh. And - and you’re right, you’re really nice to me. You’re just - I don’t know - you’re a really nice guy.”

Corpse clears his throat, so Sykkuno looks over. Corpse has begun glaring at his hands as he turns beet-red and Sykkuno stifles a laugh at the sight. “Thanks,” Corpse squeaks out.

They’re in silence for a minute, save for the rhythmic clattering of the spoon against the pot while Sykkuno stirs the milk, until he breaks it with a huff of laughter. “Do you remember the foil incident?”

Corpse groans and Sykkuno can hear him crawl back under his fort. “Shut up!” he insists.

“You were so mad,” Sykkuno continues, now fighting back his laughter. “I thought you were going to, like, cut your hand off, or something.”

“Well, at least I didn’t get hammered and wear cat ears to the Halloween game night,” Corpse retorts. “ _Somebody_ listens to my music too much.”

“I wasn’t hammered and Scarra gave them to me!” Sykkuno says. “And I wasn’t a cat _girl_ , so it doesn’t count.”

“Sure,” Corpse agrees, though the smile in voice makes it obvious he’s lying. After a second, he says, “Why _are_ you mad at the kitchen?”

“I’m not-” he huffs, biting his lip so he doesn’t pout. “I’m not mad at the kitchen,” he says calmly. “I’m not _mad_ at anything. I’m just making hot chocolate for my-” he panics a little, but pulls it together- “my best friend.”

He can practically _feel_ Corpse beaming at him from his spot in the fort. “Okay,” he says. “The popcorn’s getting cold.”

“It’s for you,” Sykkuno says, shrugging it off. There’s no response, so after a second, he turns to look over at the pillow fort in the center of their living room. Corpse has moved his head back into the view of the kitchen, and he’s staring right at Sykkuno, eyes a little watery and emotions indiscernible. “Are you okay?” Sykkuno asks quickly.

Corpse nods and once again returns to his little hiding spot in his fort. Sykkuno tries not to overthink it.

The milk only takes a few more seconds, and thanks to his personal hot chocolate addiction, they have those little ready-made spoons with marshmallows and chocolate. He brings over two mugs - one is Corpse’s favorite, with _EAT TRASH/HAIL SATAN_ and a raccoon printed in the center, a little pentagram on its forehead. The other he grabs is his _World’s Okayest Dungeon Master_ mug that Toast got for him after Sykkuno absolutely bombed his first DM session.

“Hot chocolate,” he says, gingerly reaching out through the blanket to hand a mug to Corpse. He takes it and then reaches out for the other, which Sykkuno is grateful for. Corpse holds them both while Sykkuno gets himself settled into the little fort, careful not to unplug Corpse’s laptop or knock into him and spill their drinks. After a second, he puts his hands back out and mumbles, “Thank you.”

Corpse hums, taking a sip and visibly relaxing in the warmth. “Thank you,” he replies. “For… all of it.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Sykkuno says, nodding in that awkward way he does. “Um… movie?”

When Corpse leans over to press play, he reaches across Sykkuno’s lap just a little and it’s like torture for Sykkuno. Corpse doesn’t even have to _do_ anything for Sykkuno to be flustered beyond imagination. He hits the spacebar and the movie starts, a shot of the castle on the screen and classic kiddie-horror music filling their perfect little fort. Sykkuno shuffles a little, leaning back against the couch behind them to get comfortable, and he feels Corpse do the same.

Then, Corpse presses in closer. And closer. And closer. Until their arms are lined up next to each other, sleeve to sleeve, and Corpse stiffens, before dropping his head on Sykkuno’s shoulder. Sykkuno can’t think about it, he _can’t_ , but he wants and wants and wants. Wants to think about the warm line of _human_ that is next to him, the day-old cologne smell that’s equally stale and spicy, the press of Corpse’s wrist so close to Sykkuno’s. His eyes keep threatening to drift over to Corpse’s exposed ankle, in between the fuzzy pink socks and black sweatpants, and he takes a huge sip of his cocoa just to keep from saying something stupid. It burns his tongue, but it’s better than the alternative.

Corpse litters the movie with commentary, like he always does. “Lucinda was did so dirty in this movie,” he whines. “Camryn’s dad is a DILF,” he whispers. “ _Go twitches, go twitches,_ ” he sings along, doing the dance with his mug in hand.

He’s smiling. Sykkuno keeps looking down at him, because he can’t help it, and smiling too. It’s funny how easy it is to make Corpse chill out; an hour ago, he was so anxious he cussed at Sykkuno. Now, he’s giggling like he’s a kid again.

Just as Camryn leaves for her birthday party, Corpse lifts his head to pause the movie, and Sykkuno looks at him expectantly. Something about how Sykkuno looks at Corpse makes him falter, but Sykkuno just waits.

Corpse stutters as he finally says, “Can we order take-out?”

Sykkuno laughs. “You interrupted _Twitches_ to ask that? What about popcorn for dinner?”

“It was perfect, but I really want _chile relleno_ ,” Corpse replies, eyes wide and insistent.

Sykkuno rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he agrees, smiling easily. “I’ll call them. But only because you’re having a bad day!”

Corpse smiles, looking at him in _The Way_ , and Sykkuno has this overwhelming urge to lean over and kiss him softly, press their lips together and run his hands through Corpse’s curly hair, push against Corpse’s knee with his own and get closer, closer, closer-

“Thanks,” Corpse says, and Sykkuno realizes he’s staring. He runs away.

  
  


Sykkuno makes the call, despite the knot in his stomach trying to stop him, and orders all of their favorites. Halfway through the order, the girl on the phone laughs and says, “Wait, is this Sykkuno? We know your order. I’ll have it ready in fifteen minutes,” and hangs up. That’s how often they eat there, apparently. (It’s Corpse’s favorite. Sykkuno prefers the pizza place next door.)

“Fifteen minutes,” Sykkuno says, sitting back down next to Corpse. “So we’ll leave in ten. Do you want to keep watching?”

“Nah,” he replies. He shuts the laptop with a socked foot, not moving much from his place on the floor, curled up like a cat, and pats the spot beside him. Sykkuno hesitates before he scoots forward and gets himself situated to lay on the ground near Corpse, about a foot of distance still between them. Corpse scoffs and sticks his hand out.

“What?” Sykkuno mumbles, looking back and forth at the hand and Corpse’s face. Corpse wiggles his fingers expectantly and lifts his brows, bobbing his head a little like he’s trying to tell Sykkuno something. Sykkuno blinks, and then says, “Oh!” and gingerly puts his hand in Corpse’s.

They’ve never held hands before. Sykkuno doesn’t know what’s changed tonight.

They’re in the silence for a second before Corpse turns over on his side and unlocks their fingers, lifting Sykkuno’s hand up with his free one and pressing them flat together. “Your hands are small,” he says, voice even lower than usual, reverberating through the fort.

“No they’re not,” Sykkuno squawks defensively. “I have perfectly normal hands. You’re just a - a _weirdo_ , with huge, veiny sex hands.”

“Veiny sex hands?” Corpse asks, the glee visible on his face. Sykkuno blushes and looks away, but Corpse doesn’t let the embarrassment settle. “Your hands are just smaller than mine, then.”

“I mean, yeah,” Sykkuno agrees. “Um. They are.”

Corpse says nothing, just nodding as he falls back on his back and laces their fingers together again. It takes everything in Sykkuno not to run away again. His heart is pounding in his chest, so loud he can feel it in his ears, and he wonders if Corpse can hear it too. Something washes over him, an overwhelming desire to just look at Corpse, smile at him, make him blush so the tips of his ears turn red, tell him he’s pretty, kiss him until their lips are numb. Sykkuno steels himself, taking a sharp breath and turning his head to see Corpse, who is already looking at him.

Eye contact. Sykkuno has darker eyes than Corpse, whose eyes are a pretty honey brown. Corpse’s eyes are darting all over Sykkuno’s face, but Sykkuno keeps his gaze locked on the whites of Corpse’s eyes, trained on the outermost ring around his irises that is darker than the rest, glued to the scratches of gold and chestnut blending together around his pupils.

_Kiss me,_ Sykkuno wants to say. _Kiss me, because I can’t kiss you first_.

But it’s a bad day, he reminds himself. Corpse is having a bad day. He won’t make anything happen, he won’t force it, he won’t even mention this ever again, because on Corpse’s worst days, he likes to be loved, he likes the attention, so Sykkuno can’t hold this against him. Corpse wants Sykkuno to kiss him, he knows it, but that’s because he’s lonely and sad. Not because it’s Sykkuno.

And yet, he can’t look away. Corpse starts to nudge his head closer, and Sykkuno freezes. The closer Corpse gets, the more Sykkuno’s eyes widen. He _wants_ to kiss Corpse, of course he does, but he can’t handle Corpse kissing him when he doesn’t mean it and Sykkuno means it _so much_.

Just as Corpse’s nose brushes Sykkuno’s, Sykkuno flinches, and Corpse pulls away. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That was - I’m sorry.” He rips his hand out of Sykkuno’s hold and pulls himself up, a rush to escape the walls of the fort that are closing in on them. Sykkuno sits up too, and as Corpse leaves through the left, he follows through the right. They both stand, their abandoned kingdom between them, and stare. “I’m sorry,” Corpse repeats.

Sykkuno can’t breathe. He should’ve kissed Corpse. Now he’ll never, _ever_ get to kiss him. Now it’s too late.

“I should go,” Corpse says, and Sykkuno blinks back to Earth.

“What?” he asks. “What are you talking about? Why would you go? _I’m_ sorry.”

Corpse looks baffled. “Why are you sorry?”

“Well, I-” _No, Sykkuno, don’t say it, then he’ll really want to leave-_ “I…”

He shakes his head and looks away, and Corpse sighs. “You can barely even look at me anymore,” he whispers. “I made things weird. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Sykkuno insists. There’s a calculation in his head, imaginary numbers and arrows flying around his line of sight, and he throws his arms out in the air. “I made it weird! I - I caught feelings, and you were just _reacting_. I’m sorry.” He squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact.

But then there’s a warm hand on his face, cradling it, not slapping it. “I lied to you earlier,” Corpse says, and Sykkuno doesn’t risk seeing his warm eyes looking at him in _The Way,_ or his head tilted in the way it does when he’s trying to be genuine. Corpse just keeps talking. “I had a panic attack before we left, but it was fine. I would’ve been okay going out. I just wanted to stay home with you. I always just wanna be here with you.”

Sykkuno is suffocating. He’s sure someone has their hands wrapped around his throat, but when he opens his eyes, all he sees is Corpse as he lifts his other hand to Sykkuno’s other cheek, and Sykkuno isn’t allowed to stare but he does anyway, the freckles littering the outer corners of Corpse’s eyes and the way his long, dark, curly hair flutters into his line of sight, dangerously close to his eyes, and how his eyelashes are curled and perfectly black like he wears mascara, how his eyeliner is smudged, no longer on his cheeks but just around the inner corners of his eyes, right next to the bridge of his nose.

And then, Sykkuno can’t see anything at all, because his eyes are closed again and Corpse’s lips are touching his.

His lips are chapped, and he tastes like burnt popcorn and hot chocolate, and his hands are a little clammy on Sykkuno’s face, but it’s perfect. It’s so, so, so perfect. Sykkuno puts his hands up on Corpse’s ribcage and leans back a little, swooning like a Victorian virgin, but Corpse follows him, closing the distance between them even more. Sykkuno’s hands slide around to Corpse’s back as their chests are pressed together, and one of Corpse’s hand sinks to his jaw while the other pulls away entirely and grabs Sykkuno’s wrist. He locks their fingers together. Sykkuno is so lightheaded.

Thirty seconds, or maybe twenty minutes pass, and Corpse pulls away, but Sykkuno’s eyes stay shut. A giggle escapes his mouth, and he blinks until Corpse is in front of him in 1080p.

Sykkuno was right. When Corpse blushes, his ears go pink too.

He wants to revel in this, to trace the outline of his blush from the lobes of his ears to the tip of his nose, but Corpse lifts their intertwined hands and presses one kiss to Sykkuno’s knuckles, and the whole world collapses around him. He takes a stuttering breath and feels blood rush to his face, and Corpse looks at him with a smile that makes his knees weak. “You’re cute,” he whispers. Sykkuno giggles, that schoolgirl-crush type of feeling suffocating him, and Corpse drops his head, tucking it into the crook of his neck and prodding his nose against Sykkuno’s collarbone. His hand lands on Sykkuno’s shoulder, and he mumbles into Sykkuno’s skin, “Too fucking cute.”

Sykkuno’s hand comes up to the back of Corpse’s head, just above the base of his neck where the curls are springy and knotted, and tangles his fingers through his hair. “I think you’re cute too,” he whispers, turning his head to press his lips wherever he can reach; Corpse’s temple, the top of his head, the cartilage of his ear where it curls over like a Scottish Fold. Corpse’s grip on his shoulder tightens and he laughs, a light, happy wheeze that’s equal parts breathless and giggly.

He pulls away to look into Sykkuno’s eyes, and Sykkuno’s knees go weak all over again. He wonders if this is how it’ll always be, if Corpse can make his heart flutter just by breathing in his direction. After a long few moments of movie-like eye contact, Corpse says, voice croaky and thick, “We have to go get take-out.”

“Yeah,” Sykkuno agrees. Then, because Corpse makes him feel brave, he asks, “Will you hold my hand?”

Corpse smiles so wide his whole face wrinkles upwards and he bites his lip, like he’s trying to school his emotions. ( _I made him like that!_ Sykkuno screams, a cartoon version of him doing a little dance in his thoughts. _I made him smile like that_.) “I already am,” he replies, and presses a kiss to Sykkuno’s warm, blushing cheek.

  
  


He doesn’t let go during the short walk to the restaurant, and he doesn’t let go while Sykkuno pays, and he doesn’t let go on the journey back; in fact, Corpse doesn’t let go until they have to crawl, one by one, into their little pillow fort. As soon as Sykkuno sits back down, Corpse reaches out for him again.

  
  


Sykkuno smiles, and locks their fingers together.

**Author's Note:**

> never thought i would write a corpskuno fanfic but here i am. doing it.
> 
> tumblr: strawberryphil  
> twitter: c0rpskun0  
> instagram: strawberryphll
> 
> edit: WOW yall like this omg ......... would u guys want a series? /gen


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